Chapter 6
It was barely noon when Lissianna woke up. She hadn't slept even five hours, but was immediately wide-awake when she would normally have slept through the day. Her first thought on waking was of her birthday gift.
"Dr. Gregory Hewitt," she murmured the name aloud. Lissianna knew she should be grateful for the gift, but she'd really rather have had him for dinner. Her Chinese delivery boy hadn't been very satisfying, and she was sure Hewitt would have been. Besides, she was confused on the issue of dealing with her phobia--one moment hopeful, the next dreading it.
Lissianna had been afflicted with hemaphobia since her teens. She'd tried reasoning her way out of it, but a mere peek at the red stuff was enough to send her into a dead faint.
A vampire who fainted at the sight of blood. How stupid was that? It was a weakness she found humiliating. Every feeding time her weakness reared its ugly head, forcing her to feed the old-fashioned way.
It hadn't been a problem when she was young. Every-one had fed "off the hoof" then. It was only with the advent of blood banks that it became an issue. Not right away. At first, only some of her kind had used blood banks, while others had continued to feed the more natural way, but some fifty years ago the council had issued an edict that all of their people were to use blood banks. It was safer, helping to prevent discovery.
Everyone had switched to bagged blood then. Even Lissianna had managed it by allowing her mother to hook her up to an intravenous each night while she slept. It had reduced her to the dependence of a baby, but had seemed the only real option. Going for counseling had not been possible. Lissianna could hardly walk into a psychologist's office and announce that she was a vampire with hemaphobia. Unfortunately, what she was was integral to her phobia. Lissianna's first experience at feeding hadn't gone well, and she'd fainted at the sight of blood ever since. So, faced with the choice of continuing to feed or allowing herself to be fed intravenously. Lissianna had gone with the intravenous, and things had rolled along just fine. . . until her father died.
Lissianna was suddenly confronted with the knowledge that--while they enjoyed long lives--her kind could still die. If her father could, why not her mother? The terror that had gripped her at the possibility had been twofold, one part because she loved her and would grieve her passing, and the other because she was as dependent on the woman for sustenance as a breast-feeding baby before the invention of baby bottles.
Made painfully aware of her vulnerability, Lissianna had decided she simply had to be more independent and find a way to feed herself. Exceptions to the "bagged blood only" rule were made for those with certain ailments. Like hers. So Lissianna had taken social work courses at university, then got a job on the night shift at a downtown shelter. She'd thought the shelter would be an easy place to feed because there were large numbers of people there who changed daily. She'd thought she would actually even be helping those she fed off. It had seemed a fair trade.
But Lissianna's grand plans had been based on flawed assumptions. While there were many people at the shelter, they didn't really change nightly as she'd assumed. Often they were the same clients over and over. . . And the very fact that there were so many people crowded into the shelter was a hindrance rather than a help; it made it difficult to find clients by themselves and increased the chances of discovery.
Her position at the shelter meant Lissianna might manage a quick bite here or there, but she was never really able to feed properly. On top of that, the donors available to her at the shelter weren't the healthiest specimens. Many of the clients were malnourished or sickly, and some were alcoholics or on drugs. Lissianna tried to avoid those clients for feeding, but sometimes circumstance and time constraints didn't allow her to search their minds properly, and she wound up choosing the wrong donor. While Lissianna stopped feeding the moment she realized the blood was polluted with an intoxicant, by that point it was usually too late and she was a bit tipsy, or--on more than one occasion--completely drunk. Those were instances she didn't care to dwell on. Each one had upset her mother horribly, and Lissianna had finally moved to her own apartment in the hopes of decreasing some of her mother's worry, but she knew it hadn't really worked. Marguerite Argeneau was terrified that Lissianna would follow in the footsteps of her weak-willed father and become an alcoholic. Hence the reason behind her birthday gift. Her mother was hoping to avert tragedy.
Lissianna understood and appreciated this, but after almost two hundred years under its pall, she didn't have much hope of getting over her phobia, and the very idea of trying--and failing--simply depressed her.
However, it appeared she didn't have much choice, Lissianna acknowledged as she sat up and eased carefully to her feet, trying not to wake her cousins. She might as well go see what Dr. Gregory Hewitt could do for her.
Greg peered at the curtained window and sighed. The material covering the opening completely blocked all light from outside. It made it impossible to judge what time it was, but he suspected it was close to noon, definitely well past nine-forty in the morning, the time his flight had been scheduled to take off for Canciln. Greg had missed his flight.
All that money wasted on a ticket for an empty seat, he thought with disgust, then stiffened as the bedroom door opened. At the sight of Lissianna entering, he felt relief course through him and opened his mouth to vent his frustration over how long it had taken her--or anyone-- to come check on him, then let it snap closed when he realized she was still wearing the pink lace baby doll.
It was an evil plot, Greg decided as his annoyance-- along with every plan he'd had for what he would say on next seeing her--slowly slipped from his mind like sand.
"Good morning. Have you been awake long?" she asked as she closed the door.
"No. " His eyes followed her to the closet, then Greg realized what he'd said and corrected himself, "I mean, yes. I didn't go back to sleep after you left this morning. "
Lissianna paused with the closet door open and cast a startled glance his way. "You've been awake all this time? You must be exhausted. "
He shrugged, or tried to, but it was difficult in his position. "Not really. I fell asleep pretty early last night, I think. After your mother rushed you down to the party, I lay awake listening to the music for a while, then dozed off. I probably managed eight hours of sleep before you and your cousins visited this morning. "
"Oh. . . well. . . good. " She turned to the closet, leaving Greg to slide his gaze over her. She looked adorable and sexy all at once in the pink nightie. The woman had the kind of figure he liked, with some meat on her and curves in all the right places. She also had killer legs, long and shapely. They'd wrap easily around his hips.
"How was the party?" he asked abruptly, trying to drag his thoughts from her assets.
"Okay. " Lissianna gave a small shrug, then glanced over her shoulder to give him a wry smile, and added meaningfully, "It was a birthday party, lots of family. "
"Ah," he said sympathetically, then fell silent and simply watched her poke through the closet. Thomas had said Lissianna had moved out on her own since her father's death. He supposed that meant this was her old room from when she'd lived here and that she kept some things here for those occasions when she stayed unexpectedly, Greg didn't have anything at his mother's home anymore, but knew his sisters did. He supposed it was a girl thing.
Lissianna selected a pair of pants and a top, then moved to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He caught a flash of white silk, then she closed the drawer and crossed the room to a door along the wall the bed backed onto. Greg glimpsed the interior of a bathroom done in pale blue and white hues as she stepped inside and closed the door.
He supposed she was changing and tried not to imagine the pink lace pooling on the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but all that ivory skin, then he heard the sound of water and guessed that she was taking a shower. It also reminded Greg that he really, really had to go to the bathroom. He'd had to
go since early that morning and had held it while he waited for someone, anyone to come to the room. Occasionally the need had eased, and he'd briefly forgotten about it, but it always came back. . . as it did now.
Lying back on the bed, Greg began counting backward from one thousand by sevens in an effort to distract himself. Still, he was ready to burst by the time Lissianna stepped out of the now-steam-filled bathroom, fully clothed but with damp hair.
Greg smiled with relief at the sight of her. "Could you untie me, please?"
When Lissianna stared at him blankly, Greg ignored the fact that he had go to the bathroom and took the opportunity to try to gain his freedom instead. He spoke quickly, "Look, I know your mother wants my help in treating your phobia, and I'm more than happy to see that taken care of, but right this moment it's kind of inconvenient. See, I was supposed to fly out to Cancun today.
"On vacation," he added when her eyebrows rose in surprise. "I haven't been on vacation since I went with my family as a kid. First I was busy with university, then I was setting up my own practice. . . " He took a breath, then told her, "It took weeks to rebook appointments and arrange everything for this trip. As I said, I'd be happy to help cure your phobia when I get back, but I really need this vacation. "
Greg finished by offering what he hoped was a charming smile as he mentally congratulated himself on his careful wording. He hadn't said he'd treat her himself, he'd said he'd help cure her phobia. Greg still didn't think he should treat her himself; his feelings for her were too confused to make that a good idea.
Seeing the indecision on her face, he added, "If you're worried about my going to the authorities, I can't. First off, I myself climbed into the trunk of your mother's car," he pointed out, then paused as he noted the way her eyes suddenly shifted away. Greg got the distinct impression that while he didn't have any idea why he'd done what he had, she did. He considered confronting her on the matter, but decided it was less important than convincing her to untie him, so instead continued his arguments.
"I climbed into the trunk, and that will be on the security cameras from the parking garage. Even if I wanted to, there is no way I could claim I was kidnapped. The police would laugh me out of the station.
"I also--for reasons I don't understand--walked up here and lay on the bed for Marguerite to tie me up. " He noted again that her eyes slid away from him almost guiltily. Frowning, Greg continued, "So, the most I could claim is that no one would then untie me when I wanted to be set free. How could I go to the police with that? They'd think it was some kinky sex game that went on longer than I'd intended, that I'd missed my flight, and was hoping to get a refund by pressing charges.
"And I couldn't even give them your full names or address. " He shook his head. "I have no interest in going to the authorities. I understand that Marguerite, as well as the rest of your family, just want to see you cured, and I'm impressed that they all care so much for you. I'll be happy to arrange treatment when I get back from Cancun. Really. I just want to be set free now. "
He paused, then gave in to the complaining of his bladder, and added, "While you're thinking about it, I'd appreciate it if you'd untie me for a bathroom break. I've been here since yesterday evening, and I really need to use the facilities. "
"Oh!" Lissianna exclaimed with horror and--much to his relief--rushed forward to set to work on the ropes binding him. She started on his right ankle, and had just finished freeing it when the bedroom door suddenly opened.
"Here you are!"
Greg nearly cursed aloud when her cousin Elspeth came into the room. If she'd just been a few minutes later. . . His gaze slid to Lissianna, and he sighed as he noted the guilty expression on her face as she straightened.
"I woke up and you were gone," Elspeth said, a look of concern on her face. "When I couldn't find you downstairs I thought to check up here. Couldn't you sleep?"
"I slept fine. " Lissianna assured her, then added, "Well. I did for most of the morning, but I woke up at noon. I knew right away that I wouldn't get back to sleep, so I got up and came up here to grab some clothes. "
"The cleaning crew probably woke you," Elspeth suggested.
Lissianna's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are they here? I didn't see anyone on my way through the house. "
"They'd probably stopped for lunch. I ran across a couple on my way up here. They were just starting back to work cleaning the mess from the party. " Elspeth offered Greg a smile. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"
"He couldn't get back to sleep after we woke him. "
Lissianna answered, but the other woman wasn't listening. She'd spotted the loose rope lying on the bed by his ankle.
She turned on Lissianna with amazement. "What were you doing?"
Lissianna hesitated, then merely said, "He needs to use the bathroom. "
"Well, you can't let him," Elspeth said at once. "What if he were to slip out the bathroom window and escape? Aunt Marguerite would have a fit. "
"Yes, I know. But. . . " Lissianna bit her lip, then blurted, "Do you know he was suppose to fly down to Mexico this morning for a week's vacation?"
"That makes sense. " The comment came from Mirabeau as she slid through the door that Elspeth had left open. Crossing the room, she added, "Your mother's a smart cookie. No one would miss him if he was supposed to be away on vacation. "
"Hmm. " Lissianna didn't look pleased. "I wonder if mother put the thought into his head to book the trip, or if it was just a stroke of iuck for her that he'd planned one. "
Greg blinked at the suggestion. He'd been planning this trip for months and was pretty sure it had just been a lucky break for Marguerite. Before he could say so, Jeanne Louise led the twins into the room, and asked, "What's everyone doing up here?"
"I suppose Thomas is on his way up here, too," Lissianna said with exasperation, as the twins waved at Greg in greeting.
"You suppose right. " Thomas was yawning and stretching as he entered the room. "Who could sleep with all that racket downstairs?"
"They've started vacuuming the hall outside the living room," Jeanne Louise explained. "It's what woke us up. "
"So, what are we all doing up here?" Thomas asked.
"Lissi was about to untie Greg," Elspeth announced.
Lissianna scowled at her cousin as the others turned on her in horror.
"Do you think that's wise?" Jeanne Louise asked with concern.
"You can't!" Juli gasped. "He's supposed to cure your phobia. He can't go until he's done that. " There were nods of agreement all around at this.
"So. . . What?" Lissianna asked. "We just keep him here against his will? He's hardly likely to want to cure me when he's being held here like this," she pointed out, and seven sets of eyes turned to survey him.
Greg tried not to scowl, but his need to use the bathroom was growing painful.
Lissianna moved to his other wrist and continued, "The fact is, the man's supposed to be on his way to Can-c¨¹n for the first vacation he's had in years and isn't pleased to be stuck here instead. "
"Couldn't you at least wait until Aunt Marguerite wakes up and talk to her about it? Elspeth asked, but much to his relief Lissianna shook her head.
"No, it will be dinnertime before she wakes up. "
"So?" Mirabeau asked.
"So, by then it might be too late for him to get another flight down to Cancun today," she pointed out. "Guys, he's promised to help me when he gets back. I've had this phobia my whole life, another week or so isn't going to matter. . . if he can even cure it," she added doubtfully.
Greg frowned at her lack of faith. He was considered one of the best in his field. If anyone could cure her, it was he.
"Oh, I'm sure he can," Elspeth said quickly. "He'll help you beat it, Lissi, then you can feed like the rest of us. "
"What if he goes to the police or something?" Jeanne Louise suddenly asked.
"He won't go to the police. He climb
ed into the trunk himself, and it will show that on the parking garage security tape," Lissianna pointed out, using his argument.
"But--" Jeanne Louise began.
"I'm untying him and taking him home," Lissianna said firmly, then propped her hands on her hips and turned to face her cousins. "You guys might want to go downstairs while I do it so you won't get in trouble for being involved. "
Greg held his breath as the cousins all exchanged glances, then closed his eyes as hope began to build in him when Jeanne Louise said, "Well, if you're determined to set him free, I'll help. "
"We'll help," Elspeth corrected, and there were nods all around again.
Lissianna smiled faintly. "I don't need any help. "
"Sure you do. " Thomas countered. "First, you need a ride, and second, it will spread the blame around. The more of us involved, the less trouble you'll be in. "
"Honestly, Thomas, you are truly wicked when it comes to getting out of trouble. " Jeanne Louise looked impressed. Greg was pretty impressed himself.
"That's sweet, guys, really," Lissianna said. "But you don't have to--"
"Neither do you," Elspeth pointed out. "But if you're in, we're in. "
"One for all, and all for one, huh?" Lissianna asked with gentle amusement, then much to Greg's relief, gave in. "All right, but if you're coming, you'd best get dressed. "
Greg blinked in surprise, suddenly aware that everyone but Lissianna was still in pajamas. Funny, he hadn't noticed. He should have. There was a good deal of exposed flesh in the room, but while he'd noticed Lissianna's baby doll at once when she'd entered, he hadn't paid any attention to what the others wore as they straggled in. This was a bit alarming.
"We'll go change, then come back for you," Mirabeau said.
"You don't have to. We can meet you downstairs after I finish untying Greg," Lissianna said, but Mirabeau shook her head.
"You're forgetting the cleaners. They could go tattle to Marguerite," she pointed out. "It's better if we come back to help sneak him out. "
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Juli said excitedly as she hurried for the door, with Vicki on her heels.
"Were we ever that young?" Jeanne Louise asked, as the rest of them followed.
Lissianna shook her head, then turned toward the bed. She was smiling, Greg noted, and it made him smile, too, then he cleared his throat, and asked, "Could you finish untying me now? I really need to use the bathroom. "
"Oh!" Much to his relief, Lissianna bent quickly to the task again.
He watched her untie his wrist, his gaze drifting over the white silk top she'd changed into, then down to the black dress pants. She looked good. Not as good as she had in the baby doll, but good enough that he felt his interest stir.
"What's your phobia?" he asked suddenly, as she finished with the first wrist and turned away to walk around the bed.
"Don't you know?" Lissianna asked with surprise as she came up on his other side to set to work on the last limb still strapped to the bed.
"No. " He watched her work at the knots in the rope around his left wrist. She had the long slender fingers of a pianist, beautiful and graceful.
"Oh. " She grimaced, then admitted painfully. "I'm a hemaphobic. "
"Hemaphobic?" Greg asked slowly, his mind awhirl. She was a hemaphobic? He had been kidnapped to cure a hemaphobic?
Okay, he admitted to himself, so he hadn't been kidnapped, but he had been kept tied up, supposedly because they wanted him to treat her for a life-afflicting phobia. Thomas had said it would be like his fainting at the sight of food. Greg had taken that literally, but it had nothing to do with food. The woman fainted at the sight of blood, for God's sake! Millions of people had hemaphobia and lived perfectly normal lives.
Dear Lord! He sat there recalling all the heartfelt pleas her family had made, each of them creeping into this room to tell him how much Lissianna needed him, how her phobia afflicted her. . .
Oh, now he was pissed. Greg could maybe understand if she was an agoraphobic, or if she had some other phobia that made it impossible for her to live a normal life, but hemaphobia! Christ, even arachnophobia would have raised more sympathy in him. Spiders could be found anywhere. . . but hemaphobia? Blood was not something a person ran into on a daily or even weekly basis. It hardly affected life in any meaningful way. It wasn't good, certainly; she would be useless in an emergency and would react badly to any injury she herself, or anyone nearby sustained, but to hold him here for this was just--
"All done. "
Greg glanced down to see that she'd finished untying him. He was free. Muttering a "thanks," he leapt off the bed and hurried for the bathroom before he said something he might regret. He wanted to yell and shout and break things he was so mad about missing his flight over this, but he couldn't afford to. He wasn't going to do anything that might jeopardize his getting out of this madhouse.